


Up on the Rooftop

by Setkia



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dog Walker!Maka, F/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Poor!Maka, Rich!Soul, Thatcher!Soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setkia/pseuds/Setkia
Summary: She's bad for his health and he's not just saying that because the first time he spoke to her, he fell off the roof.





	Up on the Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

> Soul is a thatcher, which is to say that he puts straw on top of houses. I needed a reason for him to be on the roof, okay?

****_i._

The first time he sees her, she's walking down the street with five dogs attached to her, three on her right arm, two on her left and it's an ungodly hour that makes him wonder why the damn chimney couldn't be inspected by a professional.

The sun has barely risen, he hasn’t had his coffee and his hair is sticking up in odd places which he wouldn't normally mind but because the mostly deserted street now has a girl walking down it, a girl who even _he_ can admit is kind of cute, he suddenly feels the urge to impress her.

Of course, he doesn't because she doesn't notice him at all and he may just be a bit conceited thinking she'd look his way.

He watches her not-so-subtly until she leaves the street, not pausing once, not even to pick up dog shit.

_ii._

  
The next time he sees her, she's got four dogs, two on each arm and he vaguely recognizes three of them. Maybe. The fourth one is new though. That makes six dogs. He wonders if she owns a kennel or something.

It's not easy to see her considering he's on the roof because the damn tiling is weird and they're considering thatching it, but he notices her odd hairstyle. She looks about his age and yet she wears her hair in pigtails? What's with that?

_iii._

  
The third time he sees her, he actually speaks. Or, tries to.

She's walking down with two dogs none of whom he recognizes. It's later in the day too and he's got straw with him now so he may as well start thatching, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at her. She's wearing some kind of fancy jacket that runs longer in the back and boots that remind him of soldiers. She has a grace about her as she walks.

He decides he can say hello to her, just open his mouth and greet her.

Instead, he loses his balance and comes crashing down.

She notices him then, though he can’t blame her — he made a loud clattering sound—and he's staring up at a face that's blocking out the sun.

Green.

Her eyes are an olive green, and before he knows it, he puts his foot in his mouth and says something stupid.

"Are you an angel?"

She furrows her brow. "Excuse me?"

"Never mind, angels aren't so flat chested."

_Idiot._

_iv._

  
The next time he sees her, _she_ talks to _him._ It blows his mind a bit more than he’s willing to admit.

"How's your head?"

He gawks at her and intelligently replies, "huh?"

"You hit your head when you fell. Are you okay? No concussion?" And if it wasn't confirmed before, it is now. She has a really lovely voice.

"Nothing that wasn't already there," he says. He's proud of himself. Five whole words and he hasn't sounded like a complete idiot quite yet. "So … seven dogs this time around? How much shit do you pick up?" _And let's retract that last statement, shall we?_

She looks at him strangely. No duh she looks at him strangely, he just asked how much crap she put her hands in. He starts counting how many dogs he recognizes. He’s seen four of them before.

She walks away without another comment.

Yeah, that could've gone better.

_v._

  
The rain from the other night means the straw needs to be replaced. Wes insists he does it early, so he does. Mainly because he’s hoping he’ll see her because for some strange reason, he’s quite sure the earlier he gets up, his chances increase.

He’s greeted by Olive Eyes wearing pyjamas at the ass-crack of dawn, which is good, because otherwise it really wouldn’t be worth it.

"Cute shoes," he tells her, nodding towards her bunny slippers.

She glares at him.

And he thought he was being smooth.

_vi._

  
He sees her late at night when he's just sitting on the roof, a habit he developed a few years ago just to clear his head.

He frowns. "No slippers today?"

He's scared she's going to turn around and leave again, but this time she stops. "Why are you on the roof all the time?"

"I'm a thatcher," he says.

"You put straw on other people's houses?"

"In the simplest of terms, yes."

"Do you also sit on stranger's houses?"

"I live here."

She nods slowly and that's the end of that conversation.

It's when she's probably two blocks away and he's called off the roof for dinner that he realizes he should've asked about the dogs.

_vii._

  
So naturally, the next time he sees her he starts with that. "Do you just own a lot of canines?"

"I'm a dog-sitter/walker," she says. "I need the extra money."

"For what?"

"Tuition. Why are you a thatcher?"

"Same reason. Tuition."

He's filthy rich.

 _viii_.

  
The guilt of his lie torments him and he feels bad that he's never had to worry about something like tuition. He's going to Juilliard and he doesn't have to pay a cent, his parents have it all covered. He's never realized how much of a brat he appears to be in other's eyes. He considers confessing that he's lying when he sees her again.

It doesn't go the way he plans.

"Why's your hair white?"

"Why's your hair blonde?"

"My mother's side," says the girl simply.

"My dad's side," he says simply. "Don't you need to walk them?" He nods towards the dogs.

"They can wait."

He's above dogs in her mind. That's an improvement. No, he doesn't know what he's thinking. This is uncool. "What are their names?"

"Bruce, The Rock, Tony, Daisy, Henry and Optimus." She nods to each dog as she says their names and they all look at her adoringly when called.

"Optimus?" he repeats. "Like Optimus Prime?"

She raises an eyebrow in his direction as though to dare him to come down from the roof and challenge her. He grins, showing his sharp teeth. "I like it." And somewhere in his mind, he thinks he says "I like you". He's not sure though.

_ix._

  
She's bad for his health and he's not just saying that because the first time he spoke to her, he fell off the roof. It's because each time he speaks to her his mind goes to weird places and he thinks weird things and his stomach does flips and he feels his breath escape him, same way it does when going down a roller-coaster. He should really stop talking to her.

He doesn't.

"Where's Optimus?"

"Owner took him back for a while," says the blonde with the pigtails. He's come to like those pigtails, though he hasn't got the faintest idea why she wears her hair that way.

"Why don't you let your hair down?" he asks before he can stop himself.

"Why don't you brush yours?"

"Touché."

He wishes he was closer so he can get a better look of her triumphant smile.

_x._

  
He doesn't know what to say when his parents come out while she's walking the dogs and look her up and down. He can tell they don't like her. They don't like her because she wears cheap clothes, has no sense of style and is a “peasant”.

Wes likes her.

He thinks Wes likes her _too_ much.

She stumbles past them and hides her face and he wishes she would look at him because if she did she would see he's cheering her on despite the frowns of disapproval from his parents.

"I don't like her, son," says Father.

"Don't fall in love with her," says Mother.

 _Too late,_ he thinks.

Wes gives him a knowing look.

He knows he's fucked.

_xi._

  
"You lied to me."

"Huh?" _Real eloquent._

"I saw your parents. You said you had to pay tuition. You're rich, aren't you?"

Like an idiot, he makes thinks worse for himself. "Define rich."

"You're an asshole."

He can't deny that.

"I can't believe I almost—" She cuts herself off and walks away, nearly choking the dogs as she goes, getting sprayed harshly by their water sprinkler as she walks.

He's dug himself a hole, hasn't he?

_xii._

  
Summer's almost over and then he'll have to go back to school and she'll go back to school and he won't see her as often, if at all. She’s started avoiding his street. Sometimes he catches her stating to walk his way until she stops and turns in the other direction.

Well, if nothing else she can hold a grudge.

He can explain it. He had a good reason to lie.

If you know, trying to get a girl to like you more by sympathizing with her situation counts as a good reason.

Shit, he's screwed.

_xiii._

  
He watches her battle against sprinklers.

If she'd just come down this way of the street, he'd tell her how to avoid them.

She doesn't.

Girls are good at holding grudges.

_xiv._

  
In the end, it's not him who gets to her. It's Wes.

"I'm only here because your brother was stalking me and wouldn't let me go till I spoke to you."

Straight and to the point. He likes that about her.

"You have to walk there," he says, pointing towards a certain spot of the street. "And run every fifteen seconds."

"What?"

"To avoid the sprinklers."

She nods at him slowly. "Right. Can I go now?"

He forces the word out, a word he's never actually had to say aloud before in his entire life because quite frankly, being rich just meant never having to say it. "I'm sorry."

She turns on her heel and he can only hope that she'll accept his shitty excuse for an apology.

_xv._

  
She comes back, so he guesses it worked. And she knows how to avoid the sprinklers now.

Shame. He liked seeing her in a wet shirt.

_xvi._

  
It dawns on him that he’s been flirting (his brother may disagree with his use of that word) with this girl for over a month and he has no clue what her name is.

"What's your name?" he asks her one day while she walks by with her thousand of dogs attached to her arm, including Optimus.

"Who wants to know?"

"A thatcher who lies about his family's wealth," he replies.

"Don't know if I want to share."

He grins, more amused than irritated.

 _xvii_.

  
"What's it gonna take to learn your name?"

"Come down from there."

He considers it, he really does, but decides against. She says that he must not want to know her name as badly as she thought, but she'd be wrong. He tells her his reason though, as stupid as it is.

"I think I'll lose my mysterious factor if I come down."

She tells him he's scared she'll be disgusted by his face.

He reminds her she's already seen it. She blushes.

He’ll count that as a win.

_xviii._

  
"Come on, a hint."

"Why don't you tell me yours?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

"Son Goku, Pokémon master."

"That doesn't even make sense."

They both laugh at his horrible attempt at humour, or more accurately, at him. He laughs mainly just to cover up how nervous he is. He's pretty sure it doesn't work.

_xix._

  
"We're going back to school soon. Am I going to have to tell my friends about my anonymous girlfriend from Canada?"

"You have a girlfriend from Canada?"

"Have pity on me."

She shakes her head, her pigtails hitting against her cheeks gently with the force. He thinks she’s adorable. She probably thinks he’s a creep though, which is fair.

He's okay with it because she still talks to him.

_xx._

  
"Maka."

“Huh?”

"My name's Maka. Maka Albarn."

He grins, slowly climbing down the ladder. He offers a hand to her. "Name's Soul. Soul Eater."

She rolls her eyes. "You're lying."

"I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he says, shoving his other hand in his pocket and shrugging. He realizes quickly that she can't quite shake his hand with all the dogs on her arms, so he settles for patting her on the shoulder awkwardly.

"That's a stupid name."

"Took you two months to get it. Was it worth it?"

She kisses him to shut him up.

Soul grins so widely he thinks he's just scared his not-so-anonymous not-Canadian girlfriend away.

"You know what, Maka Albarn? I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


End file.
